The Wizard of 9
by Frootkake Productions
Summary: This is for all you Sosh/Wiley shippers...I tried, I tried. So, R & R and tell me what y'all think...Maybe I'll write more?
1. Broken Heart

**Disclaimer :** I don't own Level 9, or its characters, but I do like writing about them.

  


**Author's Note : **Okay, ppl, you asked for a Sosh/Wiley fic...Here's a try...Tell me what you think, and if I should write more, but I really don't know where to go with it, since I'm NOT a Sosh/Wiley shipper. I'm a Sosh/Jargon shipper. They're just so cute. Like Xander and Willow before Oz came along. Then it was Willow/Oz all the way, cuz Oz was cool...But that has nothing to do with Level 9.

On with the show! (oh, if only it hadn't been canceled...)

  


**The Wizard of 9 : Broken Heart**

  


Jack Wiley entered Level 9 headquarters, one of his trademark grins spread across his face. Today was a good day. Today he had a surprise for Annie Price, Level 9's undisputed leader and all-around bitch.

Roland Travis caught sight of the grin - an eery grin at that. Travis had to look away, lest it should prove to be the contagious kind of eery grin.

"Mornin', Junior,"

"_Please_ don't call me that." This was bad, Travis could tell. Today was shaping up to be a bad day - he checked his watch - and it was only nine-thirty.

"Aw, come on," Wiley's grin widened - it actually_ widened. _Travis tried not to cringe. "I'm in a good mood. I'm happy, I'm content - "

"None of which merits being called 'Junior'."

"It never bothered you before, _Travis_."

"Yeah, well, you've never creeped me out before, _Wiley_."

"I'm creeping you out?" but the grin remained as it was.

Sosh entered the scene, tearing Wiley's attention from Travis. Travis arched his eyebrow at the sudden change in the other man. Sosh walked by, a disk in hand, not taking notice of her co-workers. Not even when Wiley's head followed her, his eyes roaming.

"Mornin', Sosh," Wiley called after her.

She turned to face him. "Oh, hey, Jack. What's up?"

Travis took this as his chance to escape. He hurried to his computer, but was intercepted by Jargon, who was standing on the stairs and therefore blocking the way.

"'Scuse me, Dude," Travis tried to get past him.

Jargon did not hear the other, however. In fact, he hadn't even noticed travis bumping into him. Jargon's mind was elsewhere, on more important things.

Sosh - _his_ Sosh - was flirting - that's _flirting_ - with Wiley.

And for some reason Jargon was now imagining Level 9 in The Wizard of Oz_._

Is that sane? Well, no, not really, he admitted to himself, but that did not matter because Sosh was flirting with _Wiley_.

Yes, Jargon could see Sosh as Dorothy, in that cute blue-checked apron-y thing skipping down the Yellow Brick Road, with Wiley - the Cowardly Lion - in tow.

Oh, the humanity.

Travis blinked at Jargon. He followed the other's line of sight straight to - 

Sosh flirting with Wiley. And was that - 

Yes, Wiley was flirting back.

Whatever they were discussing had the pair very animated. Both were talking with their hands, and using exaggerated expressions.

Travis tried again to get Jargon's attention, even if it was just long enough so he could get past. That's all he needed, just a minute to get away from these people, and back to the safety of his computer. An inanimate object incapable of any feelings. That's what Travis needed right now. "Jargon, you can be all the jealous you want _after_ you shift a little to the left."

Jargon's eyes flicked down on Travis, standing a step below him. He had not even been aware of the other's presence. And now that he was ... "You're the Scarecrow,"

Travis' eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"You're the Scarecrow," Jargon repeated in the same bland tone.

"Uh, gee, and _I'm_ s'posed to stay away from narcotics. Dude, you're totally _fried_." Travis did not try to stifle his laugh. "Share the wealth, man."

"I'm not fried," Jargon looked back at Sosh and Wiley. "I'm comparing."

Travis considered what Jargon had called him. "You're comparing me to The Wizard of Oz?"

"Not just you. Look," he nodded in the direction of his least favourite couple as of _now_. "Sosh is Dorothy, and Wiley's the Cowardly Lion."

"I see," Travis observed his companion momentarily. "And I'm - "

"The Scarecrow,"

"The Scarecrow," Travis sighed. "Why?"

"'Cause you're odd,"

"And i need a brain? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"Wha - no,"

"I have straw-like qualities?"

Jargon shook his head. "Scarecrow's just the only one left. See, Price is the Tin Man, 'cause she has no heart. Tibbs is Glinda 'cause he's a goody two-shoes. Hooten's a Munchkin 'cause he's creative."

"And you are?"

"Toto. Faithful to Sosh - Dorothy. And that damn Lion's marching on my turf."

"Riiight," Travis glanced over his shoulder again. "Well, it looks like he'll soon be shagging your tree. Can I get up _there_ now?"

Jargon's eyes went wide with horror as Travis pushed past him. "They're just talking," he said quickly.

"Oh, please. They've been 'just talking' for at least a week, Jargon. Where have _you_ been?"

The other's face fell. If that was true, how could he have not noticed? No, Travis must be making it up. But he seemed completely positive - well, only fools were positive, and Travis was no fool - wait, what did that have to do with it?

Travis could see that Jargon was distraught, and that he had not noticed the excessive interaction between Sosh and Wiley over the past little while. He now realized how deeply his companion felt for Sosh. This was truly heart-wrenching for Jargon. Travis felt obligated to say something comforting, something uplifting, something...

He tried to put himself in Jargon's shoes. How would he feel if his best friend whom he had a crush on started dating some guy she barely knew? Travis sighed, glad that he had never had problems with women, or telling her how he felt about her. He had never been shy. He saw no point in it.

But back to Jargon. What could he do? "Dude, maybe you should talk to her and just tell her that you like her."

"I can't do that. I've tried for years."

"So, try again," Travis folded his arms across his chest.

"And what if - "

"No, no. Dude, thinking like _that_ has no place here."

"Okay, fine. So, what do I say to her?"

"Oh, I dunno. Sosh, I'm in love with you may be a little not your style."

"Is that how you do it?"

"Hell, no. But you know her _really_ well, so you should know how to approach this. She's your best friend, Dude, you figure it out."

"And what if I don't?"

Travis pointed at Sosh just as she was throwing her arms around Wiley's neck.

"Oh, crap,"

  


* * *

  


Jargon threw another sidelong glance at Sosh. She had noticed each and every one of those glances, but was still unsure of what they meant. She knew he had seen her and Wiley earlier. That hug must be what's bothering him, she guessed, but he had not said anything. He just kept giving her looks. Something was on his mind, something that he appeared to want to tell her. So why wasn't he? They had never had secrets - not since she told him about her past employment as an online stripper, to put it bluntly. What was he hiding?

Jargon gave her Sosh another sidelong glance.

"Alright, what is it, Jargon? Those looks are getting on my nerves. You wanna say something? Say it already."

Jargon tried not to look guilty, as he said, "Nothing,"

"That's crap, and I know it." He still remained silent. "Come on, Jargon, you know you can tell me anything. Why is it suddenly so hard to do?"

"Because," the other sighed. "It's never been anything like _this_ before."

"Like what? Talk to me,"

He met her eyes briefly. "I don't know how to tell you this." Jargon chuckled slightly. "Travis said it would be easy and that I'd know _exactly_ what to say to you 'cause I know you so well." he shook his head. "He was wrong."

"Jargon, wha - "

"Sosh, we've known each other for a long time, and during that time we've become really good friends, and oh _God_ that sounds lame." Jargon stopped himself.

The beginning of a smile touched Sosh's eyes as understanding set in.

"Look, Sosh, what I'm trying ta tell ya is that I like you."

"Well, I like you, too, Jargon."

"Yeah, but I _really _like you - like, love you like you. Okay, that just sounded stupid, but - "

"I get the picture, Jargon. But I - "

"Like Wiley," he finished, looking away. _Dammit._

"I wanna give him a shot, yeah." she admitted.

"But he's so _old_."

"Age doesn't matter to me."

"Are you sure he feels the same way?" Sosh nodded. Jargon sighed sadly, "Oh,"

She squeezed his hand. "Are you going to be okay with it?"

Jargon could not bring himself to meet her gaze. "I guess I have to be."

She hugged him. "Thank you,"

"Yeah,"

"I gotta go. Dinner,"

"With him?" he could not speak Wiley's name.

"Yup," she logged off her computer. "See ya tomorrow. Unless something comes up later tonight." Sosh furrowed her eyebrows, hoping that nothing would happen tonight.

"Yeah, see ya," Jargon stared straight ahead, not wanting her to see the tears in his eyes.


	2. Small Talk

It appears that this story is starting to generate some interest, which is grrrooovy.  I didn't know anyone really cared. So, here's a second chapter. The third one I've been working on for awhile now cuz I was gonna have Travis know the guy, but I decided that was too well-done, so now I gotta think of something else. Anyways, here's the long awaited (?) Chapter 2…

****

****

****

****

**The Wizard of 9 : Small Talk**

****

            Wiley observed Sosh picking at the lettuce in her caesar salad.  She had already sent it back twice due to its poor quality.  Evidently she had given up.

            "We can go someplace else, if ya want?" he offered.  It was the only thing left to say.

            "No, it's okay.  This one's less bad than the others.  I'm just too picky, I guess." she replied with a shrug.

            Wiley smirked.  "That's okay.  It's cute."

            She furrowed her eyebrows at him, but said nothing.  An uncomfortable silence fell upon them.  Well, it was uncomfortable for Sosh because she could feel Wiley's eyes on her the whole time.  "So..." she tried to prompt him to say something, but it did not work.  She'd have to spark something herself.  "How was your day?"  That sounded awful to her ears.

            "It was more interesting than most." he began.  Sosh smiled.  This was good.  This meant that he had a lengthy story with which to fill the space while they waited for their meals.  "It all started last night when I was talking to a friend of mine.  She told me - "

            "She?" Sosh broke in.

            "It's nothing.  We're not even friends.  We just share information sometimes.  Anyway, so she tells me that she heard about this huge arms shipment that's supposedly comin' in tomorrow night.  So that's why I was all grinnin' earlier, 'cause I was all set to wow Price." he stopped then, stirring his coffee, and shaking his head.

            "But...?"

            "But she already knew about it."

            "Oh," Sosh wasn't sure what she was supposed to say.  "Well, that sucks."

            "It sure does," he agreed.

            He stood outside the back entrance to the restaurant.  He looked at his watch, then back at the twin doors.  Inside were the cooks, frying, baking, throwing dough in the air...He couldn't take his eyes from the flying dough...Up, down, up, down - _Snap out of it!**  I don't want to do this.**  You have to do this._**  Stop arguing with yourself!**

            He exhaled in a huff, checking his watch again.  Oh, the low he was about to stoop to.  He used to be respectable - almost feared - and now he was just another petty thief.  _Roland Travis would never have found himself in this position.  Eight o'clock.  Time to go._

            He wrestled with his cargo pants to get the gun out of the pocket on his thigh.  "Let's make some magic."

            The owner of the restaurant looked up in surprise as the double back doors swung open to reveal a scrawny blond teenaged to early twenties male wielding a handgun.  In thirty years no one had ever tried to shoot up the owner's restaurant.  The gun aimed at him.  The owner raised his hands in the air.

            "You own this cheese joint?" the kid with the weapon demanded.  The owner nodded quickly, not wanting to make the other angry.  "Then you come with me.  Anyone else tries anything," he shot the nearest cook in the head.  "And that will be you.  Get it?"  There were plenty of hurried nods, and then he took his hostage by the arm, and led him out into the dining area.

            "So I told him to keep the change, 'cause it was only three bucks anyway, and - " Wiley realized that she was no longer listening to him.  "Sosh?"

            "Carefully look over your shoulder.  That looks bad to me."

            Wiley turned in his chair just enough to steal a glance over his shoulder.  "Yeah, that looks bad." he agreed.

            "What should we do?"

            "Do you have your cell?"  Sosh nodded.  "Call for back-up, before he notices."

            "Okay," she fished the phone out of her purse.

            The phone on the desk rang.  Travis looked at it curiously.  That was the emergency line.  Only Price and Tibbs were permitted to answer it.

            Only they were not present.

             He had to answer it, Price would understand.  Well, Tibbs would understand.  "Mission control, how may I  - "

            "Travis?  Look, nevermind - we've got a problem."

            "Seeing as this is the emergency line - "

            "Shut up and listen.  We're at Luigi's."

            "Wow, that's not cheap - "

            "_Travis!" she whispered harshly._

            "What?"

            "He's got a gun."

            "Of course he has a gun - "

            "Not Jack, you imbecile!  Oh sh-"

            "Sosh?" but the line was dead.

            A woman shifted in her seat, and he could see the table behind her.  "Hey, you!  Get off the damn phone!"  He pushed the restaurant owner to the floor, heedless of the edge of the bar, which the man's head struck.  He snatched the cellular phone out of the girl's hand.  "If you just called the cops, and any of 'em show up, I'll put a bullet through every patron present's skull."  He dropped the phone onto the floor and shot it.  The cell phone exploded into bits and pieces of plastic and wire.  He turned to the crowd.  "Anyone else got a cellphone?  Toss 'em into the cenner of the room."

Thanks for reading! Leave me an idea for where this story should go. Seriously, cuz I don't know what to do with it…


End file.
